


coda: Halloween

by iriswests



Series: Bane & Santiago International [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Fluff, ILY, M/M, More Fluff, Pool Shenanigans, Pumpkin carving, but it's for you guys who have been so patient with my mentally ill ass, disgusting cheese, house decorating, it's just a happy little coda, nothing to write home about, undying love and affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-23 21:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8343820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iriswests/pseuds/iriswests
Summary: Simon wants Raphael to get into the Halloween spirit.





	

**Author's Note:**

> a story:
> 
> **me, lying on the bed:** bro, i have such a headache  
>  **raphael, uninvited:** hm. must be nice.
> 
> and, consequently, this.
> 
> happy halloween, kids. :*

_In the midst of everything, there is a day:_

Simon drops a large pumpkin onto Raphael’s very expensive, very breakable desk. He raises an eyebrow.

“A pumpkin,” Raphael deadpans. Simon grins.

“Very astute, my love,” he nods his assent. Raphael, a complete pathetic knob, preens slightly at the very sarcastic praise.

“What is it doing on my table?” he asks patiently. Said ridiculously large pumpkin is currently pinning his paperwork to his, once again, _very_ expensive and _very_ breakable desk, so he can’t occupy himself the way he would when he’s trying not to seem too eager about another one of Simon’s ridiculous ideas.

Raphael is not an idiot. Sure, he might be purposely obtuse once in a while, he’ll admit to that much, but an idiot he is not. He knows where Simon is going with this. It’s the middle of October, after all.

Still. Playing stupid for the sake of seeing Simon’s expression light up the way it does when he thinks he’s presenting a newly-formed idea to Raphael is worth it, he thinks.

“It’s waiting to be _carved_ , Raph,” Simon sighs exasperatedly, as if the mere action can cover up his ever-present eagerness. He’s practically vibrating with excitement – Raphael wonders what on earth he did to deserve such blinding sunshine accompanying him almost every minute of his waking life. He doesn’t think it was anything extraordinary. He exists, and it seems that life has gifted him for continuing to do so, despite some days feeling like he shouldn’t at all.

“You want me to carve a pumpkin?” he asks, and he knows the smile Simon breaks into next. It’s the same smile he gives Raphael when he’s frowning at a film he simply doesn’t understand, even as Simon happily explains it; it’s the same smile Simon gives Raphael when he has to hold himself back from asking the waiter to take back his food because it’s undercooked, since, according to Simon, he’s waited tables before and _everybody makes mistakes_ ; it’s the smile that Simon gives Raphael when he’s proud of him, when he’s pleasantly surprised at him, when he believes Raphael is a better man every day.

He couldn’t be more wrong, of course, but Raphael craves that smile with every fiber of his being, every day of his life.

He digresses—

“I want _us_ to carve a pumpkin,” Simon continues, holding up his index finger in contempt. Raphael raises an eyebrow – _go on_ , he communicates silently, and Simon does. “And I want to do it in the backyard, and I want to get our hands dirty, and afterwards I want to dress your house up.”

Raphael’s brows furrow. He can’t place what it is about that sentence that does not sit right with him, but he decides not to dwell on it, save he “spaces out” the same way Simon does when he thinks about strawberries. “What do you want to dress my house up _as_?” he asks, tilting his head to the side curiously.

Simon rolls his eyes. “A haunted house,” he tells Raphael, in a tone that betrays far more fondness than he thinks Simon wants. “Obviously.”

“Obviously,” Raphael hums. “And you want to do all of this…?”

“Today,” Simon declares.

“And this is because…?”

Simon huffs. “Last year, at the company Halloween party”—that Raphael has to refrain from reminding Simon was hosted _by_ _Simon_ , and somehow Raphael found himself roped into it, despite insisting that no legitimate company actually hosted a Halloween costume party—“you dressed up as a nerd. You’ve obviously got no Halloween spirit.”

Raphael frowns. “I didn’t dress up last year,” he deadpans. Simon blinks.

“Yeah, well,” he shrugs. “You’re a nerd. People thought you were being ironic. So, _this_ year,” he continues, as if Raphael isn’t deeply offended by this insinuation. “I plan on getting you into the Halloween spirit.”

Raphael shakes his head. “There is no such thing.”

“Please, you can get into the spirit of _anything_ if you try hard enough,” Simon grins. “We can tell each other _ghost_ stories.”

Ghost stories? “I haven’t told a ghost story since I was ten years old and forced to go to camp,” he raises an eyebrow. “And even then, it wasn’t very effective.”

Simon snorts. “Did you tell a bunch of ten-year-olds the story of tax evasion?”

Raphael crosses his arms over his chest. “No,” he sniffs. “And I resent the implication.”

Simon looks at him, and Raphael falters.

“I may have told a story that highlighted the dangers of bacteria,” Raphael says carefully. “But only because true horror lies in our every-day activities, you know.”

Simon bursts out laughing, and Raphael lets himself drown in the sound for a moment. “Oh, my God, little ten-year-old Raphael talking to his ten-year-old friends about killer bacteria and washing your hands after taking a shit,” Simon chortles. “I want to hear that story.”

Raphael ignores the heat in his ears. “You never will,” he huffs. “You’ll only make fun.”

Simon laughs harder, but finds a way to walk around Raphael’s desk. “Babe, please,” he pleads between laughs, swinging a leg over Raphael’s lap. Simon straddles Raphael then, his long legs somehow finding shelter underneath the chair’s arm rests, and he presses his forehead to Raphael’s. “ _Raph_ , I wanna hear the story of the killer bacteria!”

Raphael knows why Simon is doing this. They’re both very good at keeping the public displays of affection outside of the office – even though they’re the only two on this floor, they’ve had lengthy discussions about professionalism and what that means at the work place. So far, they’ve decided that there will be no sexual intercourse anywhere in Raphael’s office (after the one and only time), they’ve limited themselves to two kisses (sometimes they’ll catch themselves on the fifth, however) a day, and any physical contact cannot last longer than the socially acceptable five seconds.

So this; this is prohibited.

And yet, Simon _knows_ Raphael won’t tell him anything, because when they both get home after a long day at work, they’re both so ridiculously touch-starved they do nothing but hold each other and curl into each other and even when Simon cooks for Raphael, Raphael is at his side, kissing his neck, his ears, clutching at his waist.

So this – it’s almost like a treat. Raphael finds it dangerously sweet.

Simon’s lips meet Raphael’s in a soft kiss, and Raphael can’t help the sigh that escapes him. “Third,” he reminds Simon.

Simon chuckles. “What’re you gonna do, fire me?” he jokes, and Raphael sighs. “Besides, you’re off the clock as of five minutes ago.”

Raphael raises an eyebrow. His right hand is rubbing Simon’s back soothingly as he speaks, while the other grasps at his waist possessively. “Oh, am I?”

Simon nods, nuzzling Raphael’s nose. “I told Mr. Bane we’d be taking the rest of the day off for personal reasons.”

Raphael bites his bottom lip. He hates leaving Magnus on his own, despite evidence of him being able to run a successful company just that way. It feels – almost as if he’s cheating his friend out of something, a true merger, maybe, or maybe he simply feels useless when he’s out of the office and running absolutely nothing while Magnus runs everything. Magnus has repeatedly berated him for feeling as such, but Raphael _knows_ – he knows more than most people, anyway, more than Simon does, and he only wishes—

He swallows. “Perhaps I shouldn’t,” he gathers his wits about him long enough to say. “I do still have a lot of work to do—”

Simon frowns, and he leans back slightly. “Hey,” he brings his hand up to cradle the side of Raphael’s face. Simon’s thumb strokes his cheek softly, and Raphael can’t help but lean into the touch. “He said it was fine. You don’t believe him?”

Raphael doesn’t answer.

Simon grimaces. “He never doubts you when you say you’re okay with him taking the day off,” he reminds Raphael. “I think you owe him the same, don’t you?”

Raphael _knows_ that. Magnus hates it when Raphael doubts him.

The corner of his lips turns upward. “Alright,” Raphael concedes, and Simon beams. “We’ll leave.”

“And carve pumpkins,” Simon reminds him. Raphael’s eyes find the large pumpkin, staring threateningly at him from behind Simon.

“And carve pumpkins,” Raphael sighs, with less enthusiasm.

Simon kisses the tip of Raphael’s nose. “Love you,” he mutters.

Raphael feels his smile turn smitten. “As do I.”

\--

Carving a pumpkin, it turns out, is not as easy as the YouTube tutorials make it seem.

“Oh, that little girl is _so_ getting a dislike from me,” Simon mutters darkly, scooping out yet another disappointing amount of “guts”. “They made it seem like a walk in the park!”

Raphael is using gloves, because he is not as insane as Simon, but he’s having just as difficult a time emptying out the pumpkin. “We could have simply bought some Jack-O-Lanterns,” Raphael mutters. “The experience would have been similar.”

“Hush,” Simon holds up his knife and points it at Raphael – not in a threatening way, but it’s a near thing. Raphael’s eyebrow rises. “We are _bonding_.”

Raphael grimaces. “We have bonded over better things.”

Simon aggressively scoops some more pumpkin insides. “We are having _fun_ ,” he declares through gritted teeth.

Raphael can’t help the quirk of his lips. He’s amused. “Are we? I’ve never heard you be more convincing in my life.”

Simon stops scooping and pants slightly, throwing a betrayed expression Raphael’s way. “Raph,” he whines. “The pumpkin’s fighting for its life.”

Raphael chuckles and makes his way towards Simon, leaving his own pumpkin behind. Simon’s set up shop at the picnic table near the pool, where the sun is glaring harshly, but the wind is blowing nicely. “Maybe we should let the pumpkin live.”

Pouting, Simon glares at the pumpkin. “I just wanted to make him look like Donald Trump.”

Raphael winces. “I think that’s far too scary for any child,” he points out, and Simon laughs breathily. Sighing, he falls into the chair behind him, rubs the bridge of his nose.

“It’s official,” Simon announces. “I suck at surprises.”

Raphael shakes his head. “You don’t,” he promises, cupping the side of Simon’s neck in comfort. “It’s not your fault we were given two very stubborn pumpkins.”

Simon snorts. “We would get the fighters,” he looks up at Raphael. “You think they were also coworkers first, friends second, lovers last?”

Raphael raises an eyebrow. “Are you comparing us to the pumpkins?”

“I bet their names in life were Timon and Laphael,” Simon sighs dramatically. “At least they spent their last moments together. Happy. Fighters in life, fighters in death.”

Raphael can’t help the roll of his eyes. “Goodness, you’re ridiculous,” he sighs, and Simon grins.

“Well, there is _one_ thing I haven’t completely failed at,” he hums thoughtfully. Raphael looks at him curiously.

“What’s that?” he asks carefully. Simon’s smile turns sinister, and Raphael’s stomach falls.

He doesn’t know how it happens, but one moment he’s on dry land, and the next, he’s soaking wet inside his own pool, gasping for breath.

“Why do you _always_ fall for that?” Simon is cackling, hunched over, holding his stomach as if he can’t bear the sight of Raphael soaked in pool water. Raphael is rubbing at his eyes, trying to get them nice and clean in order to glare successfully at his boyfriend.

“Why do you always do this?” Raphael hisses. “It’s the middle of fall! I’m going to catch pneumonia and _die_ , and then you’ll be sorry,” Raphael mutters darkly.

Simon frowns. “Shut up,” he snaps, a little testily, and Raphael wilts. Yes – they shouldn’t joke of such things. Simon hates it when he does, and Raphael – well, it never really feels like a joke when he says it.

Raphael clears his throat, and Simon seems to take notice of the shift in mood. “Sorry,” he shakes his head. “Sorry, that was—”

“Just—” Raphael waves it off, avoids Simon’s gaze. “Help me out of here.” He holds out his hand.

Simon looks increasingly guilty, more and more by the second, and he grabs Raphael’s hand to help him out of the pool when—

In a second, Raphael’s pulling Simon inside with him.

His laugh is a little hysterical when Simon pops up from underneath, coughing.

“You bastard!” Simon says, no actual contempt behind his voice. “You’re such a dick!”

Raphael is still laughing, the harsh sun offsetting the cold winds. His clothes are uncomfortable this way, sticking to his skin uninvited, but it’s all worth it at this very moment, seeing Simon completely taken off guard, and, of course, soaking wet.

Simon splashes some water Raphael’s way. Raphael chuckles.

“You _do_ need to work on your observational skills, love,” Raphael swims closer to Simon, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck. “I’m starting to wonder how it is you’ve never been mugged.”

Simon sniffs. “I’m tall,” he argues lamely. “People think I pack a punch.”

Raphael laughs softly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Simon’s mouth. “Silly,” he mutters against wet skin, and Simon is suddenly gone.

He dives straight underneath him, and Raphael smiles – follows suit. They both swim circles around each other for only a moment before they swim closer and meet in a kiss, bubbles all around them, and Raphael dislikes the fact that he can barely taste Simon’s lips at all. Still, it’s enough, it holds him together, and they’re weightless in the water, almost like nothing can touch them here, no one can see them, no one can hurt them.

Underwater, they’re invincible. The weight of the water offsets the weight of the world and all that matters in the moment is Simon. And all that matters in the moment is him and Simon, and all that matters in the moment is the fact that he is, in fact, irrevocably in love with Simon Lewis.

For a moment, everything else seems futile.

They come up for air, and the moment is gone.

But Simon is not, and that, Raphael thinks, is how this goes.

Everything is temporary. But Simon is not.

“I’m getting cold now,” Simon admits, and Raphael’s laugh is soft.

“Your own fault, really.” He takes Simon’s hand and leads him towards the edge of the pool. The sun is still out, but they’re going to lose light soon, so Raphael doubts they’ll get to decorate the house as Simon wanted. He tells him as much.

“Nonsense,” Simon sniffs, as the both of them push themselves out of the pool. “We’ll do it in the dark. You’re much more prone to catching the Halloween spirit that way, after all.”

Raphael grimaces. “No such thing.”

“Such thing,” Simon replies. “Shall I shower first, or shall you?”

Raphael almost wants to suggest they shower together, but he knows he wouldn’t go through with it – as does Simon. He never asks about his strange aversion to sharing a shower. Raphael does not elaborate.

“I have more than one shower,” Raphael reminds Simon.

“We can’t run them at the same time. Neither of us will have hot water.”

Raphael ends up showering first. Simon showers about fifteen minutes after Raphael finishes his own – they end up slightly sidetracked, as they usually are when faced with exposed skin and damp hair.

Eventually, Raphael has to push Simon inside the bathroom and close the door. Their lips, if had their way, would never part otherwise.

\--

“Ow,” Simon hisses, rubbing at his head. Raphael looks at him, long-suffering.

“This does not work in the dark,” Raphael is standing towards the side, arms crossed over his chest and watching Simon try to steadily hang paper ghosts on the trees. They’d managed to put up the Halloween lights while the sun was still out, and Raphael had suggested to Simon that they might make use of them now, when there was no other light source, but Simon insisted they wait until all of the lawn decorations are up.

He’d said Raphael needed to take in the “full effect” of the house.

Which, of course, meant that Simon kept hitting his head against several tree branches.

“Raphael Santiago, do not make me come down there and hit you over the head with this ghost.”

Raphael grimaces. “I wouldn’t mind. Seems to hurt less than a tree branch, at any rate.”

“You’re so _funny_ ,” Simon mutters, swinging a string over an assaulting tree branch. “My boyfriend, the comedian. He’s not only handsome and smart and rich, no, but he’s also _funny_.”

“I feel as if that is getting tired. Perhaps you should have stopped at ‘comedian’.”

He gets a paper ghost thrown at his face for his input. Raphael can’t help but laugh.

“It’s just these paper ghosts and we’re done,” Simon calls out. “It’s worth a few bumps and bruises.”

“Well, they are _your_ bumps and bruises,” Raphael muses. “I suppose I shouldn’t mind.”

He looks down and at the window. He almost jumps, startled.

“Oh, Simon,” Raphael frowns. “Must we have that wretched thing staring at us through the window?”

“The witch?” Simon looks over to the window. “She’s the scariest part!”

“Yes, I know.” Raphael mutters darkly.

“Are you scared of a Halloween decoration?”

“She is _staring_ at me,” Raphael near-hisses. “She’ll induce heart attacks on our unsuspecting neighbors. Imagine poor Mr. Robinson walking to collect his paper and suddenly collapsing at the sight of the most hideous Halloween decoration staring unsuspectedly into his soul.”

“She was literally five dollars,” Simon reasons. “She can’t be heart attack-inducing for five dollars. Fifteen, I’d believe it,” Simon hums, tying up the last of the paper ghosts. “You’ll get used to her.”

Raphael doubts it. She is unwelcome in this house.

Simon climbs down from the latter and slaps his hands together, rubbing them eagerly. “Done!” He grins over at Raphael. “Oh, Raph, this is gonna be great, are you ready?”

Raphael almost wants to say no, but he can’t do that to Simon’s smile. So instead, he gives a rather lame approving gesture. “As I’ll ever be, I suppose.”

Simon scurries towards the outer power outlet. “Move back,” he calls out. Raphael does. “Okay, ready? One, two—” he plugs the lights in. “Three!”

The house lights up orange and black, illuminating all of their efforts so. There are cobwebs and spiders and ghosts and ghouls and he’s sure that must be some sort of gnome, Simon was vague about it. It’s – Raphael won’t lie, it’s rather charming.

“Huh” is all he says, studying the house a little more.

Simon walks up to him. “Ya like?” he grins. “Your house is looking pretty spooky, let me tell you.”

Raphael frowns. “Our house.”

Simon blinks. “Hm?”

Raphael realizes now why ‘your house’ had sounded so out of place earlier in the day. It wasn’t just his house anymore. Not with Simon’s clothes piled onto the empty drawers, not with his books taking up the bottom two shelves of the book case, not with his music playing around the house and not with his presence there, every single day, not with his limbs tangled around Raphael’s in the morning and his kisses lingering on his thighs at night.

“The house,” Raphael repeats. “It’s – it’s ours.”

Simon stares at Raphael. He seems – overwhelmed. He looks away, and it’s only when he clears his throat that he replies. “Yeah, uhm,” he looks up at the house, something soft in his eyes. Raphael wants to follow this something, find it, lie in it. “Our house,” Simon repeats, and it sounds like a thousand songs playing in harmony.

Raphael smiles.

Simon beams.

“So,” Simon says after a moment. “Are you feeling the Halloween spirit yet?”

He looks at Simon, the expression on his face, and can’t help but smile softly. “I think it’s rather obvious, don’t you?”

Simon furrows his brows. “No?”

Raphael laces their fingers together. “I can feel absolutely anything you want me to as long as you’re by my side, Simon. Decorations or no decorations.”

Simon blushes, and it’s evident even in the orange lighting. “Sap,” he says fondly, and pulls him down onto the grass. Raphael follows willingly, as he always does, and lets himself be fitted in between Simon’s legs, back pressed to Simon’s chest.

He lets Simon’s arms wrap around his waist. They’re silent for a moment, admiring their handiwork, and then Raphael feels Simon’s breath on his cheek. He turns his head to the side, meets Simon’s eyes. His heart flutters shamelessly.

“How can you look at me like that?” Raphael asks suddenly. Simon frowns.

“Like what?”

“Like I am your entire world,” Raphael is curious, but his voice is soft and grateful.

“You _are_ my entire world,” Simon points out, like it is the most obvious fact in the universe.

Raphael sighs. “What a terribly foul world you must live in, then.”

Simon presses his lips to Raphael’s jaw. “Oh, I don’t know,” he mutters against Raphael’s skin, which sends a shiver down his spine. “It’s a little complicated and angry sometimes, maybe a little sad, but it’s mine. You can’t take that away from me,” Simon warns.

“Oh, can’t I?” Raphael asks, amused.

“Well, you can try. But even if you left, rode out of my life on a horse to some sad song, you’d still be my entire world.”

Raphael can’t think past the knot in his throat. “And if you left me?”

Simon blinks at him. “Don’t be silly,” his smile is quizzical. “I would never, ever leave you.”

Yes. “You know,” Raphael brings his hand up to caress Simon’s cheek, and he revels in the way Simon leans into his touch, as if it’s something important, as if it’s something he craves. “Somehow I knew that.”

“Good,” Simon says softly. “Then I’m doing _something_ right.”

“More,” Raphael presses his forehead to Simon’s. “You are doing everything right.”

Simon stares at him for a very long time. Raphael allows him to, for when Simon stares, he drowns. But it’s peaceful – his lungs contract, but they do not beg for air. Simon can take his oxygen. He will happily give it. He would give everything. Anything he asked for. It is when Simon looks at him when Raphael is at his most vulnerable, after all, and in these moments, Simon could ask for the moon and Raphael would find a way to bring it to him.

Simon could ask for his life, and Raphael would happily lay it down for him.

Simon’s hand cups the back of Raphael’s neck. “I am so lucky to know you,” Simon laughs softly, shaking his head, almost as he cannot believe it himself. “I am so lucky to love you. And – you love me back,” Simon continues to shake his head. “That. That’s the craziest part.”

Raphael disagrees. “Wrong,” he kisses Simon. “Loving you back is – the easiest part,” he decides. It’s true. Loving Simon is easy. It’s simple, like breathing. And sometimes painful, like waking.

“What’s the hardest?” Simon asks.

Raphael hums. “The Halloween obsession, hands down.”

Simon laughs and rolls Raphael sideways, onto the ground. He pins him to the grass and Raphael is grinning, stupidly, brilliantly, smitten. Simon growls playfully.

“Shut up or I won’t let you order me around tonight,” he warns. Raphael smiles, unperturbed.

“You _enjoy_ being ordered around,” he says, almost purring. His hand is rubbing Simon’s cold arm. “There’s no way you would deny yourself the pleasure.”

Simon presses his lips to Raphael’s in reply. What a marvelous argument.

When they pull apart, the wind is colder. “Perhaps we should move this inside?” Raphael offers.

Before Simon can reply, he seems to spot something in the distance. Raphael frowns when Simon shivers.

“Okay, you’re right.”

“Usually,” Raphael assents. “But about what, this time?”

Simon looks at him. “That witch has to go.”

Raphael laughs and laughs, and Simon turns him over and kisses him quiet.

**Author's Note:**

> this is just a small silly treat for halloween. i have not been able to get into the darker mindset of either of these boys without testing my own mental health, so i'm putting off the larger sequel until december. i hope you understand.
> 
> i love you guys. you are special, you are perfect, you are loved. kudos and comments are always welcome. i always do read the comments, even if i don't reply to all of them, and they mean the absolute world to me. <3
> 
> and one other thing -
> 
> with the next installment, will come very _very_ big news. 
> 
> okay, maybe for me, but i hope you guys will enjoy them, too. stick around. all of you have played an instrumental part in these news. and all of you will be thanked for enjoying this and commenting on this. 
> 
> i'll see you soon, love bugs.
> 
> ** EDIT: **
> 
> i completely forgot! as a treat for y'all, my beautiful and talented and wonderful friend shelby sang "Forest Man" for me - and for you! (yes, that's the song simon wrote for raphael in heartache). so if you're interested in giving it a listen (and trust me, her voice is gorgeous you'll love it), [do so here!](https://soundcloud.com/headachesoundtrack/forest-man)
> 
> if you ever want to download it request it and she'll make it downloadable for you guys. 
> 
> OKAY NOW I'M LEAVING FOR REAL see you soon with big news and a new update, my darlings!


End file.
